Cold thighs and cold thoughts.

I ran towards the west. Within moments, I realized it was too cold. Snowflakes battered my face and hands. I knew why I was doing this. Running is my meditation and it had been far too long. But even in the cold, I didn't stop this time. I didn't turn around. I kept on. First my fingers went numb. Then the tops of my thighs. Then my calves. I ran faster, hoping that I could turn on some inner reserve of heat to keep from freezing. At first, I only felt cold.

I stopped at a small bridge only half a mile away. I stared at the slowly moving stream, the rusty iron bars that held the bridge up, and the spray-painted '93' that marked where the great flood had risen.

I turned back, still freezing. But as I neared my parking spot, I realized something. I wasn't cold anymore. Everything was warm. So I ran on, past my car, going East. I'd never gone running in the snow before. It was... amazing. It was beautiful.

I saw a hawk flying above the cliffside, gliding on the frigid wind.

I so often feel like a domesticated animal, sitting at my computer, eating processed food, driving my old man car. But this wasn't easy. It was hard. And so wonderful. For a half hour, I wasn't so domesticated. I ran, cold and steaming... like I should be.

I want so very badly, to learn how to live like this. I want to push myself out of my comfort zone and into the wild.

2014 - The appalachian trail. Hopefully that will be a step in the right direction.